


Wedding Day Worries

by EarendilEldar



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Male Friendship, The Talk, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Jitters, because some Elves more sheltered than others, despite the fact that they've battled Balrogs...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilEldar/pseuds/EarendilEldar
Summary: It's Ecthelion's wedding day and he's got pre-wedding jitters.  Fortunately, Fingon is a lot more worldly about these things.
Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 62





	Wedding Day Worries

“Ridiculous to be nervous, isn’t it?” Ecthelion muttered, fidgeting with the silver tassels on his pale blue sash. 

“I don’t think so,” Fingon said, calmly reworking the looped plait that slipped from his fingers when Ecthelion turned his head suddenly toward the window as someone rode by with bells jingling on a headstall. “Just be glad I’m doing this and not my brother. Turo threatened to lop off my braids if I jumped up once more on my wedding day.”

“I’ve known him all my life… loved him just as long. I’ve faced Balrogs without such fear! Why am I nervous when I should be happier than ever before?”

“It’s just the way it is, Thelion. But, believe me, happiness will begin to overtake the nerves the moment you see him. And it shall be scarcely containable when you take one another’s hands.”

“Come, I don’t believe for a moment that you were nervous on your wedding day. After all you and Maedhros were through together? And I’ve never seen anyone happier or more radiant than the two of you were that day.”

“Believe it, Thelion,” Fingon said seriously. “I was all but sick with worries the whole night before and all that morning. You need but ask Turo how I wept upon his shoulder, and exactly because of all Timo and I had been through. I was terrified that _something_ would happen, that the Powers would come to forbid it because we’d already bound our fëar or any of the other laws we’d contravened a dozen times in the elder days. I was to the point of making up incredible things to dread, like Maitimo’s father being remade and turning our wedding into another kinslaying.”

“You’re right,” Ecthelion muttered, “your fears were worse than mine. I can’t even name mine, which I suppose makes it all the more ridiculous.”

“No,” Fingon said, squeezing Ecthelion’s shoulder. “The unnamable fear is usually the worst.” Fingon closed the end of the plait with a silver-white clasp then turned to pour out two glasses. “Here, drink this slowly. You will feel much better.”

Ecthelion quietly sipped the cordial Fingon had offered, then looked hesitantly at Fingon for a long moment. 

“What?” Fingon asked. “The cordial seems fine to me….”

“Not that,” Ecthelion sighed. “I was just wondering about something, but… I don’t know how to approach it….”

“Well, directly usually brings results. And I cannot recall the last time I was genuinely offended, particularly by nothing more than a question.”

Ecthelion still looked uncertain for a long moment, then raised his chin and met Fingon’s gaze. “What is it like… you know…?”

Fingon grinned knowingly. “There are some things that defy description, my friend. I can only say that when you arrive at that point… it won’t seem so secret or mysterious. It suddenly becomes something innate, instinctive, but more than that. And then, you become a _part_ of one another.” Fingon sighed, thinking that all sounded rather nebulous, even to his own ears. “You know that feeling when you kiss? That sort of warmth that pulls you ever closer to one another, like you could so easily become one person, together and complete, forever?”

Ecthelion couldn’t help the smile of recognition that drew across his lips. “Aye, I know that feeling.”

“Well, it’s like that, taken to its logical conclusion.”

Ecthelion glanced away and took another sip of cordial. “Shall it change us?” he asked. “How he and I are with one another, I mean. Now we enjoy long, peaceful walks or just lying together in a meadow, and we laugh so easily together, and…. Does all that change? I mean, there’s always been, well… I suppose it sounds foolish, but I’ve always felt so natural with him, more myself than even I am only with myself, and….”

Fingon reached out and clasped Ecthelion’s arm. “No, it does not change. Who you are and what you have together shall remain constant.”

Ecthelion looked deeply relieved, letting out a long breath and dipping his head. “I must sound so _innocent_. You and I are nearly of an age, have endured trials and battles and beasts unnumbered, yet here I sit like a fledgling who’s not gone further than the furthest end of the branch.”

“It’s just a different sort of love, Thel. Timo and I… our fëar have clamoured to be close since we were infants. And, of course, as we grew that clamour only intensified, in inverse proportion to the amiability between our families. It was all but impossible for us to even see one another by the time we both began to understand that what our hearts and bodies and fëar wanted was the same thing. And then came Alqualonde, and Araman…. Our love was never going to have the sort of purity and tenderness that yours has. We started out a deviation, according to some, and tended to live up to those expectations.”

“But you have tenderness, surely. How often do I see the two of you embracing or holding hands, leaning into one another…?”

“Well, yes, we have that sort of tenderness, just as have you and your Golden Flower. I’m speaking of a different sort of aspect, though, one that pervades and suffuses all that you are together. It tends to be a bit rougher round the edges for Timo and me. But that’s a different matter, just something that’s a part of who we are.”

Ecthelion gave Fingon a curious look. Fingon smiled mildly and somewhat secretively. “We’ll talk about that some other time. Today is about you and Glorfindel. At long, _long_ last.”

Ecthelion laughed, realizing that he was much more relaxed since Fingon shared his cordial. “You know, that day he arrived back here, when we stopped in Turgon’s courtyard… he hadn’t even realized it yet. It wasn’t until that night while we were sat beside the fountain and I finally said how I truly feel about him. It actually took me saying it for him to put the pieces together. He said he’d always expected that love would announce itself with a fanfare and flourish so that it couldn’t escape one’s notice, but that his love for me had been so natural and unassuming all along….”

Fingon chuckled. “I don’t know your Glorfindel particularly well as yet, but that explains precisely why he and my brother are such old friends. To Turo’s mind, the only things truly worth one’s attention are the things which refuse to relinquish one’s attention. If I’m honest, I wasn’t especially surprised when he lead you all off to his secret city and shut his gates to all going and coming. A captive audience had to be the ideal situation for my brother.”

“They do both treasure pageantry and grandeur,” Ecthelion laughed. 

Fingon smiled and picked up the cask containing the silver circlet that had been a wedding gift from Celebrimbor and Erestor. “Speaking of pageantry and grandeur…,” he said. “The final touch.”

Ecthelion took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He closed his eyes lightly and nodded, letting Fingon place the circlet. 

“Are you ready?” Fingon asked. “Because your Golden Flower shall weep for joy when he sees you. And after all, soonest started….”

Ecthelion nodded again. “Aye. Soonest started,” he said, rising. “Fingon,” he said, reaching out, “thank you for getting me through this.”

Fingon nodded and clasped Ecthelion’s shoulder. “I’m honoured you asked me, and Maitimo and I wish you and Glorfindel all happiness, which I hardly need do since I know you shall have evermore.”

Ecthelion glanced once in the mirror, smiled at Fingon, and together they headed out arm-in-arm through the city and outside the gates where the wedding festivities were already underway and awaiting only the guests of honour. 

From across the crowd, Ecthelion caught the brightness of Glorfindel’s golden locks and broke out in a broad grin, his nervousness vanishing like a morning mist.


End file.
